


Bruised Shoulders

by Edelwing



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bruises, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking to Cope, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, First Dance, Karate, Katsuki Yuuri's Stamina, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Tension, karate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edelwing/pseuds/Edelwing
Summary: Yuuri loses the first fight in the karate tournament and spends all evening mourning over it. Luckily, Viktor to the rescue!AKA. The karate AU no one asked for but everyone needs





	

There is an upsetting throb in his heart. But the aching in his shoulder from when he was thrown overhead is more painful, at least for now. At the time being, Yuuri can't exactly take in what happened. He made it to the final six, but he never, ever lost in such a pitiful way. Karate has been his dream sport ever since he could walk. He worked his butt off to be able to compete on the same tatami as Viktor Nikiforov. And today, he did. But he lost on his first match. He can't say what exactly it was that made him lose focus, even if it was for the life of him.

Now, he's on the side, with an injured right shoulder and a coach that rambles on and on about who knows what. He said something about "next time", maybe about the fact this wasn't his "good day". But Yuuri wasn't listening, his mind was elsewhere.

He gazed at the tatami farthest away from him, where a certain Russian man was warming up to the upcoming match. The world might never see a competitor like Viktor Nikiforov ever again. He was strong, with muscles showing through his kimono, he had balance, but he also didn't lack fluidity in his moves and lightness on his feet. His stance was powerful, his moves calculated and precise and he never flinched. He really did put the _art_ in martial _arts_.

There was a lump in Yuuri's throat that he couldn’t swallow and suddenly, he couldn't sit still. He felt as though he was in the wrong place. He should've been out there, stretching and warming up to compete with Viktor. Yet, here he was, biting back a curse every time he moved his shoulder.

He politely excused himself and went straight to the room he was staying in, at the hotel across the road.

* * *

 

They had a front yard there, at the hotel. It wasn't anything spectacular, just some wooden tables and benches, but it was enough for the martial artists. The tournament was over and it was their last night there before each team went their separate ways. The warm, dusk wind blew lazily around them; it was going to be an amazing night, full of music and alcohol.

Except for Yuuri, it appears. He was still locked up in his room, locked up in his thoughts. He didn't know who won, but his best bet was Viktor. Of course Viktor would win. He was the best of the best, after all.

There was a running gag in the karate community: "When Viktor participates in a competition, the podium starts at second place."

This brought giggles to Yuuri, but also sorrow. He could've been that second place... He had the necessary potential, but he lacked that split second of concentration. And now his shoulder is messed up. Amazing.

Over the hours, he tossed and turned in his bed, in hope for a comfortable position to cry

In the end, it was in vain. He thought with sorrow about how harshly people will judge him now that he lost in such an amateurish way and this tightened his stomach and throat.

There was music coming from outside the window. Yuuri glanced down, at the picnic spot. All the competitors were gathered there, forming tiny groups around the tables. For a moment, Yuuri contemplated joining them, but immediately pushed the thought away. He couldn't stand that embarrassment. Most likely they'd call him names and mock him for being weak and pathetic. Those words would hurt a lot, because they were true.

There was a soft knock on the door and Yuuri sighted. Surely it was Celestino urging him to go downstairs and socialize with the others.But Yuuri hasn't been more wrong in his entire life, but fortunately and unfortunately.

When he opened the door, he didn't see the green tuxedo of Celestino's. Instead, he locked his eyes on a teal, smiling gaze shadowed by short, silver hair.

"Come join us!" Viktor said. "It's a lot of fun!" He waved in the air a bottle full of clear liquid.

It took Yuuri a few tries so answer, especially because he forgot how English works.  "I, uhm... I mean, I-I think I'll just stay here. Thank you for the invitation, though."

“Alright then,” Viktor said and for a moment it seemed as though he was going to change his mind and return to the party. Instead, he moved closer. “Then I'll just stay here until you decide to join the party!”

Unconsciously, Yuuri made way and Viktor made himself at home in his room. He sat on the edge of the bed and invited Yuuri to do the same. Reluctantly, he did.

Viktor gestured the bottle in Yuuri’s direction, but he politely refused, at first.

“Come on!” The Russian urged and his words were coated with accent. “Try it, at least.”

Yuuri couldn't say no to those eyes. He took a sip, but immediately wanted to spit it out, because it tasted absolutely horrible.

“Of course, it's vodka after all.”

Yuuri was choking, so Viktor patted his back with three calculated and precise moves.

“Easy there,” Yuuri pleaded when he could talk. “I'm okay, but you're gonna bruise my other shoulder too.”

Viktor laughed a little, and Yuuri’s breath hitched. Never has he ever seen such a beautiful and captivating smile. He chuckled too.

“Speaking of which, I'm sorry for your shoulder. I truly am.”

Yuuri looked the other way. “Oh, it's… it's nothing.”

This was Viktor’s cue to stop talking about it. Unfortunately, he wasn't very receptive.

His lips curled up into a warm, tiny smile and he looked anywhere, but not to the other man. “To be honest with you, Yuuri, I always enjoyed the way you fought. There is a certain grace in your moves. It looks as if you’re dancing on the tatami. Your matches are truly beautiful to watch.”

Yuuri’s mouth hung slightly open and he stared at the other man, unable to form any coherent thoughts in any language whatsoever, be it Japanese or English. Fortunately, Viktor took it as something adorable and gave a small nudge to Yuuri’s chin with the tip of his fingers. “Close your mouth, the flies are gonna get in.”

Yuuri turned bright-red and short-circuited. He clenched at the bottle in his hand, and took another sip. The alcohol burned his throat, but it was a calming and soothing burn. Viktor drank as well.

For the first time in forever, Yuuri felt as though he belonged somewhere. Sure thing, it was only one person he was talking to (his lifelong idol, no less), but this human being came to Yuuri’s room, unrequested, and wanted to spend time with him. There was a rattling in his heart. He thought he’d never feel that again.

Little did he know that Viktor was nervous as well. The only difference was that Viktor was better at keeping his calm posture and he had a couple of drinks before coming here, so he could blame the alcohol for the occasional stuttering, not his crush.

In the end, Yuuri rubbed at his forehead and murmured a “thank you” with half a mouth. They drank again, and then Viktor placed the bottle on the nightstand and stood up on the blankets. “How about we do karate in bed?”

Yuuri goes dumbfounded. “Well… I… Uhm…. I…”

Viktor leans back on his left leg and places a hand in front of him and the other fist next to his hip, as if he was getting ready for a match. “Come on!”

Then a light-bulb goes on above Yuuri’s head: Viktor meant actual karate, not some hidden innuendo.

Viktor seems to have noticed the misunderstanding, because he relaxes and drops to Yuuri’s level, looks him dead in the eyes and smirks. “We can do that too, if you want to.”

Yuuri falls on his back and groans into his hands. “Oh my God, Viktor.” Then he rolls to his side and reaches for the bottle to drink for the nth time that night. Then something in him clicked, for the better and for worse at the same time. He jumped to his feet and stretched his hand towards Viktor. “You know what, let’s go downstairs!”

A smile bloomed on Viktor’s face, and both of them knew that this was going to be a day they’ll all remember.

* * *

 

The night was still young and the party was ongoing. Music blasted from the boxes and people danced to the rhythm, more or less. Viktor was greeted with whistles and shouts of appreciation and when he introduced Yuuri, the roar of whistles skyrocketed. Normally, Yuuri wasn’t fond of this much appreciation. But his was different, somehow.

Christophe, a good friend of Viktor’s and his podium mate, approached them. “Who’s that hottie?” he asked when Yuuri was already swallowed in a joyful mass of people. Everyone was hugging him and his old friend and tatami-mates were already showering him with kisses.

“Back off, he’s mine,” Viktor wrinkled his nose, then laughed.

“Of course he is, of course he is.” Chris patted Viktor’s back. “Good luck with him, stud. Looks like you’re not the only one who adores him.”

Indeed, Yuuri found his place in the middle of the impromptu dance rink. He was a gorgeous sight to watch; a little laggy from the alcohol, but beautiful nonetheless. The martial artists were clapping and dancing in a circle around him, but Yuuri was the centre of attention. Without a second thought, Viktor removed his jacket and stepped inside. Yuuri and everyone else welcomed him with open arms.

He grabbed Yuuri’s wrists and shamelessly pulled him close. The crowd went ooohhh. Viktor leaned down to Yuuri's ear and said, “If I win this dance off, will you take me on a rendezvous?”

Yuuri wanted to say that he'd do that at any given time, but instead, he blabbed, “Only if you're gonna take me out if I win.” He pulled off a grin too.

Viktor smiled, meaning “It's a deal”, and carefully let Yuuri go, so they could begin the dance off.

* * *

 

Viktor learned the hard way that Yuuri had incredible stamina. His slides and turns and spins were indescribable. He moved as though he was born on the dancefloor. And the moments when their hips brushed together or when they glided against each other were the moments Viktor praised the most. In the end, there was no winner. Both of them poured their hearts and soul into the contest and they danced until they dropped dead tired. Or at least Viktor. Yuuri, on the other hand, could do it all again, at full force.

At some point, Yuuri sung the lyrics to a song; right when Viktor believed he knew all there is to know about this gorgeous Japanese man, he managed to surprise him even more. Because, holy damn, Viktor thought, this man has an amazing voice.

They also consumed a lot of alcohol and stopped counting after the second bottle. Surprisingly, Chris was the one to put an end to it: Yuuri was getting too drunk on alcohol and Viktor was already drunk in love to notice. He urged Viktor to take both of them to their rooms, for their own safety. After some arguing, Viktor agreed. With a heart shadowed by regret, he gently dragged Yuuri off of the dance floor.

Yuuri whined at first, but it was only for the sake of it, not because he was actually mad.

They stumbled to the elevator. Yuuri’s room was at the second floor, but there was no way Viktor could take him there by the stairs. After Viktor pressed the button, he turned to Yuuri, whose grin was beaming.

“What are you looking at?” Viktor teased, unsure whether the other one understood English or not at this point.

Yuuri laughed once. “Hey, Viktor, watch this!” he said and touched his nose with the tip of his tongue. “Cool, right?”

Viktor worked at the spot between his brows. “Adorable,” he murmured.

Turns out, Yuuri didn't have the key to his room. It should’ve been obvious, he didn't have most of his clothes on, for that matter. So Viktor made the crazy decision to take the drunk one to his own room. Good thing there was a spare bed. Yuuri clung onto Viktor and tried to sing when they opened the door, but at this point, he was as coherent as a toddler. Viktor softly laid Yuuri on the mattress and he sat next to him, brushing his damp hair.

The moment Yuuri felt the cold sheets embracing him, he began to doze off. Viktor sketched a move to stand up and take his clothes off, but something was tugging at his sleeve. It was Yuuri who whined, “Viktorrr, sleeep with meehhh…”

Viktor placed a light kiss on top of Yuuri’s knuckles. “In a moment, dear.” He prayed to the Gods that Yuuri was to intoxicated to remember his small love gestures the next day. He would die of embarrassment otherwise. He discarded his shirt to the side and stretched next to Yuuri, far away enough so he wouldn't touch him, but close enough so he would feel his body heat.

Yuuri seemed to have drifted off to sleep. His ramblings were now rare and whispered. Even when sleeping, Yuuri was a masterpiece. He was contempt, happy even. His soft features shined through the darkness. Viktor could make out the shape of his nose and his jawline, perfectly sculpted. And not to mention the full and slightly parted lips…

He had to turn around, his back facing Yuuri. He couldn't look at that breathtaking man sleeping in his bed, centimeters away from him, without a certain type of thoughts running through his mind. He fidgeted with his fibers. Pull yourself together, Viktor, you're a grown-ass man, for Heaven’s sake.

Right when Viktor thought he finally regained his calm, Yuuri shifted behind him and dropped an arm and a leg on his side. And Viktor nearly lost it. He needed all the strength in the world to not turn around and cover Yuuri in kisses right then and there. He bit the inside of his cheek and allowed himself to caress Yuuri's hand with his thumb. He felt Yuuri's breath tingling his nape, and that's the last thing he remembers before falling asleep.

* * *

 

The next morning, it's a phone's erratic buzzing that waked Yuuri up. His head was heavy, his muscles were tight and there was a sour taste on the flat of his tongue. It was a brutal yank from the dream world, so he tried to dig his face into the pillow, to muffle the unwanted noise. Only, it wasn't a pillow; it was a beating heart he heard. _Viktor Nikiforov’s heart_.

Yuuri was almost sent into a panic attack. He breathed in and out a couple of times, then urged himself away from Viktor, as much as it pained him.

Little did he know that Viktor was already awake and the moment he felt Yuuri pull away, he tightened the grip on the small of his back. “Don't go… I'll be cold if you leave…” He half-murmured, half-said. Then he caressed Yuuri's backbone and the skin on skin contact made Yuuri shiver.

“I… Sorry, but I should be going…” he stuttered. “My coach might be looking for me.”

“It's okay,” Viktor murmured and yawned. “He knows you're here. In fact, everyone does. Hold up, let me show you something.” He reached for his phone on the nightstand. After a couple of taps, he showed Yuuri an Instagram post by none other than Christophe Giacometti.

Yuuri forgot how to breathe.

It was a picture of him and Viktor. Topless and sleeping glued to each other. Viktor seemed to be smiling and staring half lidded at the one taking the picture, while Yuuri had his back turned to the camera. The caption read “#AfterParty”, followed by a heart. Typical of Christophe.

Yuuri’s ears turned as red as the emoji used there and he dug his face into his palms.

Viktor realized  that Yuuri stiffened and looked for a solution as fast as possible. The best think he could come up with was, “I can ask Chris to delete the picture, if you want to.”

“Yeah, that would be great.” _Even if the picture is already viral and all over the internet_ , he wanted to add. Without any warning, he rolled off of Viktor, who couldn't hold back a sigh.

“Yuuri, would you…” he began, then stopped when he question repeated in his head. God, that was so humiliating.

“Yes?” Yuuri tried. He studied Viktor from head to toe and how he stood up to and paced towards Yuuri.

Viktor managed to talk around the knot in his throat. “Would you be so kind to… give me your phone number?”

This left Yuuri baffled for a moment. Then he blurted out a “Yes, please!” before Viktor could change his mind.

After they exchanged numbers, Yuuri rushed to his room. There was a whole lot to pack and only half an hour left before his team's bus left for the airport.

* * *

Right when Viktor was about to climb on the bus to leave, his name was called from behind. It was Yuuri, who frantically ran towards him. "Viktor, wait up!" Viktor's friends gave him a wink and a whistle before Yuuri stopped in front of him, catching his breath. "You... Oh, Gosh.... You forgot this..." He handed Viktor a black tie. 

Reluctantly, Viktor accepted it. Then he smiled. "Thank you, Yuuri. Did _you_ remember to take everything?" he cooed.

Yuuri went tomato-red and looked everywhere, but not to Viktor. "W-well, I've got my wallet, my passport, clothes..."

Viktor cradled Yuuri's nape with long, thin fingers then pressed a light kiss to the Japanese man's cheek. "I think _now_ you've got everything." He smiled gently.

It was too much for Yuuri.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Would you like me to write what they did that night? It sure is quite the show ;)


End file.
